CHAPTER SIX
KADE
“Queenie, are you okay?” I press my forehead to the bathroom door. She locked it. She never locks me out. Eden even pisses with the door open. Showers with me in the room. There’s no privacy rule between us.
“I’m worried,” I tell the wood between us. “I think we should get you checked out.”
“I’m fine,” she says—too bright, too chirpy, the kind of tone people use when they’re trying to deflect. “It’s just the alcohol making a reappearance. You don’t need to see this.” She even laughs. But it’s thin. Forced.
“Eden,” I say quietly, “I don’t like this door being locked when you’ve bumped your head. What if you collapse?”
“Then I give you permission to break it down,” she says. “But I’m fine, I promise.”
I blow out a slow breath and sit on the edge of the bed, telling myself to be patient. To wait. To give her space.
Ten minutes crawl by before the door opens.
She steps out wrapped tightly in her dressing gown, pulled high and closed like armour. Her face is pale, her eyes shiny in a way that makes my stomach twist.
“No birthday lingerie?” I joke, trying to lighten the air, trying to coax one of her smiles.
But she flinches. Actually flinches. And my heart shatters. Since when was she scared of me?
Her head drops, and she snatches her pyjamas before hurrying right back into the bathroom. The door shuts—and locks again.
“Hey, I was kidding!” I call after her, but she doesn’t answer.
When she finally comes out again, she doesn’t meet my eyes. She climbs into bed, turns her back to me, and pulls the blanket right up to her chin like she’s freezing.
I watch her for a long moment.
No kiss. No cuddle. Not even a glance.
She scared the hell out of me tonight, and the least she could do is—
But it’s more than that. Something’s wrong.
And she’s trying to hide it.
When I wake, Eden’s already up and dressed. At four in the morning, she couldn’t stand or speak properly, now she’s humming while scrubbing the bathroom like nothing happened.
A cold knot forms in my gut.
I turn on the shower. “Morning,” she says too brightly, giving me a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.
“I thought you’d still be in bed,” I say, watching her scoop up last night’s clothes.
She dumps the whole pile straight into the bin.
“I want to apologise to the girls again. I feel terrible for worrying everyone.”
“And that couldn’t wait?” I step into the shower, keeping my gaze on her. “Why are you throwing your clothes away?”
“I got vomit and dirt on them.”
“So wash them.”
She hesitates, eyes flicking away. “God knows what crap I was lying in, I’d rather buy a new dress.”
Something in me twists. She’s hiding something. I can feel it like a kick to the ribs.
“While we’re on the subject,” I say slowly, “what the hell happened?”
I open my eyes, and she’s staring at me, blank, guarded, like she’s searching for the safest answer.
“Erm… I’m not entirely sure,” she says. “I think I fell over. Hit my head. When I woke up, my phone and purse were gone.”
“That’s a serious knock to the head, Eden.” My voice hardens. “You were out for hours.”
“I know.” Her voice is tiny. Hollow.
“Go talk to the girls,” I tell her gently. “I’ll finish up, and then we’re going to the hospital.”
She laughs, high and forced. “There’s no need. I feel fine now. Honestly. Don’t fuss.”
“I’m not arguing on this, Queenie.” My tone leaves no room for debate. “You’re getting checked.”
Her smile falters, and for a heartbeat, I see pure fear flash in her eyes. She hides it instantly. But I saw it.
And now I know for damn sure, something happened last night.
Something she’s terrified to say out loud.
EDEN
Martha and Fern are in the main room, and the second they see me, they rush over and pull me into another hug.
“I couldn’t sleep,” Fern admits, voice shaky. “I kept thinking about what could have happened.”
“Listen,” I say quietly, pulling back enough to look them both in the eyes. “You have to get me out of going to the hospital. Kade wants to take me and I really, really don’t want to.”
Fern frowns. “Actually, it’s a good idea. It sounds like you hit your head pretty bad.”
“I didn’t hit my head,” I whisper. Their expressions change instantly to concern. “I think I was drugged.”
Martha grabs my hand. “The drink the man sent over?” I stare at her, my pulse spiking because I have no idea what she’s talking about.
She leans closer. “Eden, remember? A man sent us drinks. I drank mine and threw up straight away in that fake plant pot. And then I had the worst headache the rest of the night.”
My heart slams painfully against my ribs.
I hear footsteps approaching; Kade’s, and panic grips me.
“I can’t go to the hospital,” I hiss, desperately.
“You can see a doctor without him,” Fern whispers. “And if you were drugged, Kade should—”
“Please.” I tighten my grip on her hand. “You know he won’t let me speak to a doctor alone. He’ll sit in the room. He’ll ask questions. I can’t—” My voice cracks. “Fern, I need you.”
Kade reaches us and kisses my head. I glare at Fern, silently begging her to improvise.
She straightens immediately. “I was thinking,” she says brightly, “I’ve got a gynaecology appointment at the hospital in an hour. Why don’t I take Eden with me? We’re going the same way.”
“It’s fine,” Kade says, brushing her off. “I want to see for myself that she’s okay.”
Martha steps in. “Back off, Kade. She’s my sister, we’ll take her. And you’ve got tattoo appointments all day.”
Kade smirks. “What are you, my stalker? Diesel can pick them up.”
“Martha’s right,” I add quickly. “All this fuss is crazy. I’m fine. But if you insist I get checked, she can come with me and you can go to work.”
He studies me like he’s trying to decode something. Then he shrugs and leans down to kiss me.
The moment he gets close, the scent hits me—
Zesty. Sharp. Wrong. My whole body goes rigid.
His hand slides to my chin in a gentle caress, but it collides with a flash of memory so vivid it knocks the breath out of me.
Bruising fingers. Pinching. Hold still, bitch. Dirty—
I flinch violently.
When I open my eyes, Kade is staring at me like I’ve just slapped him.
“What’s going on with you?” he asks, brow furrowed. “I kiss you and you freeze up on me?”
“I… I—I…”
“Pres!” Diesel shouts from down the hallway.
Relief washes through me so hard my knees weaken. Kade looks away. Fern and Martha are watching me with wide, terrified eyes. I force a small smile.
“Call me the second you’re done at the hospital,” Kade mutters. “We’ll talk about this later.” Then, quieter, he adds, “Did something happen last night?” I shake my head hard. “Queenie…” His jaw tightens. “If I find out you did something—”
“Jesus, Kade,” Fern cuts in, laughing nervously. “Like Eden would ever do anything like that to you.”
He hesitates, confused, still frowning at me, then turns and heads to his office.
The moment he’s gone, the smile falls from my face, and I release a long, shuddering breath. Fuck.
KADE
“I sent two of my best men to watch my ol’ lady and she went missing. What the fuck happened?” I growl, pacing behind my chair.
Cole won’t look at me. “Pres, I saw her go to the toilet and then I got sidetracked.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Sidetracked how? And if you tell me it was because of a woman—”
His silence answers for him.
I slam my palms on the desk so hard the pens jump. “You lost my ol’ lady because you got distracted? By some random fucking girl!”
“Pres—”
“And you,” I snap, turning on Tap. “Where were you?”
He stares at the floor. “Downstairs.”
Diesel folds his arms. “With a woman?”
Tap nods once. Shame thick in the air.
“Jesus Christ,” Diesel mutters.
Something in me snaps. I grab the nearest bottle of whiskey and hurl it at the wall. It shatters into a rain of glass and burning alcohol.
“You realise she could’ve been killed?” I roar. “Do you get that? Because right now we’re having this conversation—” I jab a finger toward them, “—but if things had gone another way, I’d be sending you both to fucking Hades.”
“Pres, I am so fucking sorry,” Cole says, his voice raw.
“Get out,” I snarl. “And stay out of my face until I decide I can stand to look at you again.”
They leave fast.
Diesel sinks into a chair with a sigh. “What a night. Is Eden okay?”
I drop into my seat, rubbing my hands over my face. “I don’t know, brother. She’s acting weird. I think she might’ve cheated on me.”
Diesel scoffs so hard he chokes. “Kade. Don’t be stupid.”
“I’m serious,” I snap. “She froze when I kissed her. She’s hiding something.”
“Yeah,” Diesel says. “Embarrassment. Shame. She passed out next to a bin. Everyone pisses up those things. You think she wants you to picture her lying in that filth?”
I lean back, but the unease in my chest doesn’t budge.
“You always tell her off for how much she drinks,” Diesel continues. “She probably didn’t want the lecture. Probably woke up confused and mortified.”
I want to believe him, but the image of her flinching from my touch won’t leave me.
“We’d better get to work,” I mutter, pushing the doubt down. “This bullshit can wait until later.”
EDEN
“Take your time,” Martha whispers, squeezing my hand so tight it almost hurts.
I wipe my face again. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve done it. My eyes feel raw, swollen.“I feel stupid,” I choke out. “Why can’t I remember anything?”
“If you were drugged,” Fern says gently, brushing hair off my cheek, “that’s normal. It scrambles everything. Makes the night foggy. Confusing.”
“It’s like…” I swallow hard. “There are pieces. Just pieces. Hazy. Not fitting together.” My throat tightens. “And I’m sore.” The words barely make it out.
Martha’s face crumples. Fern’s eyes fill instantly. I point weakly toward my lap, shame flooding me so fast it makes me dizzy.
“I’m sore,” I repeat, voice breaking. “And—” I gulp a breath, sobs shuddering through me. “I was bleeding.”
The room goes silent.
Martha pulls me into her arms before I can fall apart again, and Fern presses a shaking hand to my back, grounding me.
“Shit, Eden, are you saying what I think you are?” Fern whispers, her face draining of colour.
“I don’t know,” I sob. “Nothing is making sense. Nothing.”
Martha squeezes my hand so tightly my fingers ache. “You have to see a doctor,” she says firmly, voice trembling but determined. “If this were me, you’d drag me there yourself. And you know it.”
She’s right. And that only makes the fear twist harder inside me.
“I know a private doctor,” Fern rushes out. “She’s lovely. Gentle. She won’t judge. And she keeps everything confidential.”
My stomach drops. “But what if it’s true?” The words taste like poison in my mouth.
Fern takes my cheeks in her hands, forcing me to meet her eyes. “And what if it’s not?” she says softly. “What if you’re imagining the worst because you can’t remember anything clearly? What if your mind is filling in blanks from a nightmare?”
A nightmare.
I cling to the word like it’s a lifeline.
“What if you’re working yourself up,” Fern adds gently, “and it turns out you just had a horrible drug-induced night and nothing else?”
Hope flickers. Weak and fragile. But it’s something.
“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Martha whispers, stroking my back. “Let’s just find out.”
Fern doesn’t wait for me to panic again. She pulls out her phone, her fingers shaking but determined, and calls the private doctor.
Within minutes she hangs up. “She’ll see you now,” Fern says. “Straight away.”
My whole body trembles. I nod. Because hope is the only thing keeping me upright.